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HIS TALK WITH LINCOLN 



HIS TALK WITH 

LINCOLN 

BEING A LETTER WRITTEN BY 

James M. Stradling 

w 

WITH A PREFACE BY 

LORD CHARNWOOD 

AND AN INTRODUCTION BY 

LEIGH MITCHELL HODGES 




THE RIVERSIDE PRESS 

MDCCCCXXII 



£TfS7 

.15 



COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY THE OUTLOOK COMPANY 

COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



OCT 2 J 

C1AG86416 



PREFACE 

By Lord Charnwood 
I have been asked to write a pref- 
ace to a letter here published for the 
first time, written with no suspicion 
that it would become literature, by 
a man belonging to Lincoln's " plain 
people," and describing with keen 
intelligence and sympathy an ordi- 
nary and characteristic incident of 
the darkest days of Lincoln's life. 

When I have come across any 
similar publication, of something 
which an unknown man has writ- 
ten very well, I have generally felt 
that the more pretentious preface, 



Prefc 



ace 

attached to it by the hand of a less 
unknown writer, is rather a tire- 
some thing. Yet I venture on such 
a preface : first, for the sake of the 
friend who asks me to do so; sec- 
ondly, because I suppose I may in- 
duce a few more people to read the 
letter that follows, which I think 
they should do; thirdly, because 
Englishmen enjoy doing anything 
to honour the great American to 
whom, in spite of his most rare gen- 
ius, in spite, too, of some real differ- 
ences between his own people and 
them, they feel themselves inti- 
mately akin. 

They were very dark days when 
this letter was written — the days 



Preface 

between Fredericksburg and Chan- 
cellors ville. Lincoln's often star- 
tling and nearly perpetual flow of 
humour can be so described, by far 
less humorous admirers, as to seem 
an almost inhuman thing, an " in- 
dustrious jocularity " (to use the 
phrase of a solemn old gentleman 
whom I knew) , which grows tedi- 
ous to ordinary mortals. It was, of 
course, nothing of the kind ; and I 
do not want to dwell ponderously 
upon any of the touches in this let- 
ter; but it does make Lincoln more 
real, and not a shade less humorous 
to me, to see him vividly portrayed 
upon an occasion when there really 
were things that hecould havejoked 



Preface 



about, but, while others smiled, his 
awful sadness never relaxed. 

Hosts of people, who did not think 
Lincoln a great man, soon found out 
that he was a good man, and re- 
flected later that this is sometimes 
a more useful thing to be. The pe- 
riod of this letter was just the pe- 
riod, in looking back on which men 
have said : that Lincoln saved the 
Union ; that it was a tremendously 
difficult feat; and that it is impos- 
sible to tell how he did it except by- 
being so very honest. This is so 
nearly true that one would only get 
into a mist of words if one criticized 
it. But there is one thing to be re- 
membered alongside of it. Lincoln 
C viii ] 



Preface 

triumphed — or, rather, his cause 
triumphed, if he did not — because 
his heart was right. Let us add that 
his heart was so right that he did his 
job supremely well. 

I am tempted here to dwell on 
one of the ways in which he did his 
job better than anybody looking on 
could imagine at the time. The 
letter itself suggests one of those 
ways, his management of the cause 
of emancipation. I wish to indicate 
another, his military administration. 

The post of a civil administrator, 
who, when a free people is at 
war,must always control its armed 
forces, is always one of appalling 
difficulty. If a reader of history has 



Prefc 



ace 

the imagination and the elementary 
knowledge of affairs to spot what 
some of the difficulties are, he can 
discover that Lincoln met them as 
well as any man has ever done. But 
there is more to be said. 

When Lincoln interfered, as he 
sometimes reluctantly did, with the 
plans of the military commanders 
under him, he showed in the essen- 
tial points far sounder military judg- 
ment than they did. It seems im- 
pudent to say this when military 
historians, who start very properly 
with the presumption that the mil- 
itary man will be right and the in- 
terfering civilian wrong, have said 
the contrary. But certain crucial 

CO 



Prefc 



ace 



instances happened shortly before 
and shortly after the time of this 
letter, in which, when the point is 
once clearly seen, it is manifest that 
the military critics have been quite 
wrong about Lincoln. 

Not long before this, Lincoln had 
hampered McClellan in the Pen- 
insula by withholding from him 
forces that McClellan thought nec- 
essary for taking Richmond, which 
he thought he could do. Why? 
Because Lincoln realized, and Mc- 
Clellan did not, that even a cer- 
tainty of taking Richmond would 
not have been worth any appre- 
ciable risk of losing Washington, 
for Richmond was in no way vital to 

t*1 



Prefc 



ace 

the South, and Washington — if for 
no other reason, yet because of the 
effect which its fall must have had 
in Europe — was vital to the North. 
A little later, but still before this 
letter, McClellan had beaten Lee 
at the Antietam ; and again, not long 
after the letter, Meade beat him 
again at Gettysburg. On these oc- 
casions Lincoln put every possible 
pressure upon each of these gen- 
erals in turn to do, what neither of 
them did, and bring about a fur- 
ther battle without delay. Why? 
Because Lincoln realized, what Mc- 
Clellan and Meade in turn would not 
grasp, that a fair chance of crushing 
Lee's army entirely, before it could 

on 



Prefc 



ace 

escape south of the Potomac, was 
worth the risk of any defeat which 
that army could, in its condition at 
either of these moments, have in- 
flicted on the North. 

This is that sort of simple reck- 
oning with obvious facts, which any- 
body could do, which hardly one in 
ten thousand of us habitually does, 
and which, in the superb loneliness 
of his melancholy thought, Lincoln 
almost always did. He was like that 
in his dealing with the larger issues 
of state. He was like that in those 
matters of ordinary duty, in a sense 
larger still, with which every man 
and woman has to deal every day. 
I recall here that he was like this in 

t x5ii 3 



Preface 

military matters because it may- 
help to set the pages which follow 
in their true light if the reader will 
remember that the kind, simple, and 
sore troubled being who stands out 
in them was a terribly efficacious 
Commander-in-Chief of the forces 
of the United States. 

These, too, are very dark days 
for many of the nations of the world ; 
when rumours of wars and the bit- 
terness of recent war abound; and, 
instead of enjoying, as many had 
been tempted to expect, a sudden 
and conclusive victory of down- 
trodden justice, we have to realize 
that " the end is not yet. " It is good 
at this time to be reminded, as what 
I xiv J 



Prefc 



ace 

follows may remind us, of one of 
those whom the Great Master fore- 
shadowed in the words 

He that endureth to the end. ' ' 

Charnwood 

London, July, 1922 



INTRODUCTION 

For many decades Holicong — 
once Greenville — Pennsylvania, 
has kept its quiet pace as a typical 
Bucks County cross-roads settle- 
ment. There, about the middle of 
the last century, dwelt John W. 
Gilbert, justice of the peace, tan- 
ner, and variously important citi- 
zen. And there, in the late fifties, 
came from the near-by village of 
Mechanics ville "Jim" Stradling, 
writer of the long-hid letter here- 
with first published. 

Young Stradling lived with the 
Gilbert family while serving a sort 
of apprenticeship in the tannery. 
Then came the war, and at nine- 

C xvii 3 



Introduction 



teen he enlisted in a New Jersey 
cavalry regiment recruited around 
Lambertville, just across the Dela- 
ware from the rich-grown slopes 
of Bucks. 

Of his career the main facts 
were his marriage with a volunteer 
army nurse, teaching in a South- 
ern school, long residence in Phila- 
delphia, where he was connected 
with a publishing house, and sub- 
sequent removal to Beverley, New 
Jersey, where he died some six 
years ago. 

Meantime this letter which 

pleased its recipients was pushed 

into a pigeonhole to yellow with 

the years, but happily to escape 

I xviii ]] 



Introduction 



the fate of much similar testimony 
concerning other momentous men 
and times. 

As a historical portrait it speaks 
for itself, marking its author for 
one day, at least, a great reporter. 
If anything could deepen its im- 
pression, it would be remembrance 
that the winter of 1863 shadowed 
the forces and friends of the Union 
with a weight of gloom which 
only a Gettysburg could dispel. 
Leigh Mitchell Hodges 



HIS TALK WITH LINCOLN 



HIS TALK WITH LINCOLN 

Camp Bayard, Virginia 
March 6, 1863 
Mr. John W. Gilbert, 

Greenville, Pa. 
My dear Friend John : 
I arrived safely in camp yesterday 
afternoon and found Captain Boyd 
and the boys all well. The captain 
was so glad to see me that he sent 
me in charge of a squad of men out 
on picket that night on the Rappa- 
hannock River. On returning from 
my furlough I had a number of 
quite exciting experiences, which 
I will relate as best I can. 

On leaving thy beautiful home, 

[3] 



Lincoln 



which had been an exceedingly 
happy one to me for nearly three 
years, I took the stage for Lambert- 
ville, New Jersey, where I soon 
boarded a train for Trenton, and an- 
other one at Philadelphia for Wash- 
ington. At Baltimore we had quite 
a time getting through the city, for 
we were pulled through it by a team 
of mules, and it was quite slow work. 
The driver of the mules used some 
queer language which I suppose the 
mules understood, for whenever he 
used that language and cracked his 
long whip the mules just did their 
best towards pulling. It was slow 
work, but we landed in due time on 
the other side of Baltimore. 

[4] 



Lincoln 



I arrived in Washington about 
nine-thirty the next morning, and 
at once hunted up a restaurant, for 
I felt quite empty. There is one 
thing, John, that thee may be sure 
was left out of that meal, and that 
was "hardtack" ! For one meal they 
were left offthe bill of fare. After fin- 
ishing my breakfast, I walked down 
to the river, where I found a river 
steamer which was being loaded 
and which was going to the front 
that night. I presented my furlough 
to the captain and told him I should 
be pleased to go with him to Acquia 
Creek that night. To my great as- 
tonishment he refused to take me 
on board. I said to him that my fur- 

C 5 ^ 



Lincoln 



lough expired the next day and I 
was anxious to get to the front. 

I told him that if I remained over 
the Provost Guard might pick me 
up and hustle me off with a lot of 
real deserters to the front, but I did 
not want to go that way. My plead- 
ing with him, however, had no ef- 
fect, so I walked up to the Capitol, 
and walked through it and came 
out and walked down Pennsylva- 
nia Avenue, towards the " White 
House." I was thinking hard all 
the time and wondering what I was 
going to do. 

While trudging down the Ave- 
nue a sudden thought — why not 
see the President — flashed into my 



Lincoln 



mind, and I started for the " White 
House/' I supposed that all I would 
have to do would be to go down to 
the " White House/' knock on the 
front door, and if the President was 
not in, Mrs. Lincoln could tell me 
where he was and probably invite 
me in to wait until he returned. ( I 
know, John, that thee and Letitia, 
and the girls will laugh your heads 
off when you read this, and then 
you will exclaim — we did not think 
Jim was that green. ) 

When I reached the front door 
of the " White House " I found two 
or three policemen on guard, who 
said to me, " Well, Country, what 
do you want ? " I told them I wanted 

[7] 



Lincoln 



to see the President, when they 
showed me into a very large room 
which was full of people. Of course 
I was very much bewildered and 
did not know which way to turn. 

I finally picked up courage to 
ask a gentleman near to me if these 
people had assembled to hear the 
President make a speech. He re- 
plied with a twinkle in his eye, after 
he had sized me up, that " the peo- 
ple were assembled to see the Pres- 
ident, but that he was not going to 
make a speech, but that every one 
would have to wait their turn to be 
called into his room for a personal 
interview.' ' After thanking him, I 
looked around the large room to see 

C 8 1 



Lincoln 



if I could see any one I knew. Pres- 
ently I saw General Hooker, stand- 
ing over on one side of the room, 
near a side door. At that moment a 
guard opened the door and General 
Hooker passed in. I asked one of the 
guards where people landed when 
they passed through that side door. 
His reply was, " Why, greeny, that 
goes to the President's room/' 

As soon as I could I edged my 
way around to that door and told 
the guard that I was a soldier in dis- 
tress, and asked him if he could help 
me. I told him I had been home on 
a furlough and — " You want to get 
it extended I suppose. I do not be- 
lieve the President will do that." 

C 9 3 



Lincoln 



"I want to get to the front to- 
night." I told him there was a 
steamer going down to-night, but 
the captain of the steamer had re- 
fused me passage. " Oh/' he said, 
"that is an Indian of another skin." 
I asked him what he meant by that, 
when he said, " It is a horse of an- 
other color." He looked at me and 
said, " You are very green, aren't 
you?" I acknowledged that I was 
just slightly like a green apple, but 
I told him I could learn, and in fact 
I had learned a whole lot since ten 
o'clock this morning. I said to him 
that if I could get a chance to put 
my case before the President, and 
get him to thoroughly understand 



Lincoln 



that I was endeavoring to get to 
and not from the front, that he 
would assist me. When he had heard 

me through he said " D n all 

steamboat captains/' Probably he 
had run up against a steamboat 
captain some time in his career, too. 
He took my furlough and, call- 
ing another guard to watch the door, 
disappeared. He was gone for a 
long, long time. While I was wait- 
ing a very nicely dressed gentle- 
man came to the guard, and show- 
ing him his card, he was passed in. 
I asked the guard who that was that 
could go in by simply showing his 
card. He replied, " That was United 
States Senator Ben Wade of Ohio/ ' 



Lincoln 



While still waiting, another fine- 
looking old gentleman and a lady- 
came up and handed the guard a 
letter, which he at once sent in to the 
President. The lady's eyes were 
very red, and soon she commenced 
to weep again, and I heard her re- 
mark to her escort, " I must see the 
President to-day, or my son will be 
shot to-morrow/ ' 

Of course I was very anxious to 
learn who they were and what was 
the trouble with her son, and was 
about to ask the guard when the 
other guard, the one who had my 
papers, appeared and said, " Follow 
me." I followed him into a small 
room where there was a gentleman 



Lincoln 



sitting, and my guard addressed 
him as Mr. Hay. He said, " Please 
be seated, the President will see you 
very soon." 

While waiting there, Mr. Hay 
was passing in and out all the time, 
but he found time to tell me that he 
had given my furlough to the Pres- 
ident, with the statement that I was 
endeavoring to get to the front, 
while most of them were trying 
their best to get away from the 
front. I told Mr. Hay that the fact 
that the President was warmly in- 
clined towards those soldiers who 
remained in the army and at the 
front had trickled down through 
the army. For that reason I had no 

C is 3 



Lincoln 



fear about making an effort to see 
him. While sitting there waiting I 
began to realize where I was and 
what I would have to go through, 
and what I would have to say to the 
President. I became, as thee used 
to say, John, weak in the knees and 
warm under the collar. 

I did not have long to wait, how- 
ever, for in a few minutes Mr. Hay 
came in and said, " The President 
will see you." I followed him into 
the President's room, when he an- 
nounced, " Sergeant Stradling," 
and passed out. As I came abreast 
of the people in the room, there sat 
Ben Wade and two other gentle ■ 
men I did not recognize, and Gen- 

t 14 H 



Lincoln 



eral Hooker was standing up and 
saying good- by to the President. 

As I approached, the President 
hesitated a moment and asked me 
to take a seat, when he went on and 
said good- by to General Hooker, 
and said, " General, we shall expect 
to have some good news from you 
very soon/' 1 saluted the general, 
which he returned and then passed 
out. 

In my efforts to acknowledge the 
President's invitation to take a seat 
I had finally blurted out that I would 
rather stand. The President then 
arose, and I did not think he would 
ever stop going up. He was the 
tallest man, John, I think I ever 

t 15 ]] 



Lincoln 



saw. He then turned around to me 
and extended a hand which was 
fully three times as large as mine, 
and said, " What can I do for you, 
my young friend ?" 

He had a grip on him like a vise, 
and I felt that my whole hand would 
be crushed. I had a small fit of 
coughing, during which time I re- 
gained my composure. Then I told 
him my case briefly as I could. He 
then signed my furlough, on which 
Mr. Hay had written across the face 
of it: "To any steamboat captain 
going to the front, please give bearer 
transportation," and handed it to 
me and said, " If I have any influ- 
ence with the steamboat captains, 

l i«3 



Lincoln 



I think that will take you to the 
front." 

I thanked him and was taking 
my leave, when he said to Senator 
Wade, "Senator, we have had the 
head of the Army here a few min- 
utes ago, and learned from him all 
he cared to tell. Now we have here 
the tail of the Army, so let us get 
from him how the rank and file feel 
about matters. I mean no reflection 
on you, Sergeant, when I say the 
tail of the Army." 

I said I understood him and knew 
what he was driving at. He said a 
great many men had deserted in 
the last few months, and he was en- 
deavoring to learn the cause. He 

c »7 n 



Lincoln 



said there must be some good rea- 
son for it. Either the Army was op- 
posed to him, to their Generals or 
the Emancipation Proclamation, 
and he was very desirous of learn- 
ing from the rank and file about the 
conditions in the Army. " None of 
the Generals desert or resign, and 
we could spare a number of them 
better than we can spare so many 
privates." 

Turning around to me, he asked 
if I could enlighten him on any of 
these points. In the meantime I had 
become perfectly cool, perfectly 
composed. The weakness had dis- 
appeared from my knees and the 
heat from under my collar. I braced 

l 18 3 



Lincoln 



myself to tell him things which I 
knew would not be pleasing to him. 
I however determined to tell him 
frankly and truthfully all I knew 
about the feeling in the Army, as 
far as I knew it. 

First I said, " Mr. President, so 
far as I know, the Army has the 
utmost confidence in your honesty 
and ability to manage this war. So 
far as I can learn, the army had 
no faith in the ability of General 
Burnside. In fact it had but very 
little faith in him, and no respect 
for his ability. He appeared to us 
as a general who had no military 
genius whatever, and fought his 
battles like some people play the 

[ 19 3 



Lincoln 



fiddle, by main strength and awk- 
wardness. Not the most ap- 
proved way of fighting a battle, 
surely." 

The President asked me if I was 
in the battle of Fredericksburg. I 
replied in the affirmative. "Did you 
see much of the battle?" I replied 
that when the fog lifted we could 
see nearly the whole line. I ex- 
plained to him that the battle- 
ground consisted of a long and level 
plain and was what they call in Vir- 
ginia "bottom land." The rebels 
were entrenched on a number of 
low hills skirting this plain on the 
south while at the foot of Mary's 
Heights was a sunken road. Their 

C 2 ° 1 



Lincoln 



batteries and more infantry were 
entrenched on the heights proper, 
while the sunken road was full of 
infantry and sharpshooters. This 
was the position against which 
General Burnside launched Gen- 
eral Hooker's corps, the flower 
of the army. "You know too 
well the result, for I can observe 
the great gloom which still hangs 
around you on account of that 
battle." 

Senator Wade then asked me if 
I thought there was any excuse for 
such a blunder. I replied that if it 
was agreeable, I would give my 
views about the matter. The Pres- 
ident spoke up and said, " This is 

1 « n 



Lincoln 



very interesting to me, so please go 
ahead." 

I said the country was an open 
one. There were no mountains or 
large rivers to cross, but both flanks 
of the rebel army were susceptible 
of being turned, and Lee flanked 
out of his strong position. Even we 
privates wondered why such an at- 
tack was made. General Burnside 
must have known of the sunken 
road, for we of the cavalry had 
been over this road with General 
Ba}rard in 1862, and he must have 
informed General Burnside all 
about it. If General Burnside had 
possessed any military genius, he 
would have flanked Lee out of that 

c 22 ] 



Lincoln 



strong position, and fought him 
where he could have had at least an 
equal chance. 

All of those present listened very 
attentively, when the President 
said, " What you have stated, Ser- 
geant, seems very plausible to me. 
When General Hooker left us but 
a few minutes ago he said, * Mr. 
President, I have the finest army 
that was ever assembled together, 
and I hope to send you good news 
very soon.' That is just the lan- 
guage General Burnside used when 
he left me shortly before the battle 
of Fredericksburg. And such a dis- 
aster that followed still makes my 
heartsick." ( I wonder if the Pres- 



Lincoln 



ident has visions of future disasters 
to follow. ) 

I said, " Mr. President, even pri- 
vates when on the ground cannot 
help seeing and wondering why cer- 
tain movements are made. I refer to 
the charges of General Hooker on 
our right. Our duty, however, is not 
to criticise, but to obey even if we 
get our heads knocked off. I have 
found that soldiers are willing to 
obey without hesitation and take the 
chances when they feel that their 
show is equal to that of the enemy." 

The President said, " You have 
said nothing about how the soldiers 
feel towards the Emancipation Pro- 
clamation." 

[ 24 ] 



Lincoln 



I replied, " Mr. President, I ap- 
proach the Emancipation Procla- 
mation with great reluctance, for I 
know how your heart was set on 
issuing that document. So far as I 
am personally concerned, I heart- 
ily approve of it. But many of my 
comrades said that if they had 
known the war would free the < nig- 
gers ' they would never have en- 
listed, so many of them deserted. 
Others said they would not desert, 
but would not fight any more, and 
sought positions in the wagon train ; 
the Ambulance Corps ; the Quar- 
termaster's Department, and other 
places, to get out of fighting. In fact, 
the < nigger in the woodpile' is an 

1*5 3 



Lincoln 



old saying, but a very true one in 
this instance. 

" I was born a Quaker, and was 
therefore an anti-slavery young 
man when I entered the army. 
When I was a boy I attended from 
two to three debating societies a 
week, and the slavery question was 
always under debate in one form or 
another. I had heard the question 
debated and helped debate it for 
two or three years before I entered 
the army, and was therefore a full- 
blooded abolitionist, and welcomed 
the proclamation with open arms. 
The issuing of the proclamation 
caused many to desert, no doubt, 
and the presence of General Burn- 

C 26 3 



Lincoln 



side at the head of the army caused 
many others to leave the army." 

I suppose the President and Sen- 
ator Wade and the other two gen- 
tlemen wondered what they had 
before them, but, John, I had been 
invited to the feast and had my say. 

The President sat still a moment 
or two, when he said, "Sergeant, I 
am very glad indeed to have had 
your views. I am glad to know how 
many of your comrades feel about 
slavery, and I am exceedingly glad 
you have mentioned the Emancipa- 
tion Proclamation, for I shall take 
this opportunity to make a few re- 
marks which I desire you to convey 
to your comrades. 

c 27 n 



Lincoln 



"The proclamation was, as you 
state, very near to my heart. I 
thought about it and studied it in all 
its phases long before I began to 
put it on paper. I expected many 
soldiers would desert when the pro- 
clamation was issued, and I ex- 
pected many who care nothing for 
the colored man would seize upon 
the proclamation as an excuse for 
deserting. I did not believe the 
number of deserters would mate- 
rially affect the army. On the other 
hand, the issuing of the proclama- 
tion would probably bring into the 
ranks many who otherwise would 
not volunteer. 

" After I had made up my mind 

C*8 3 



Lincoln 



to issue it, I commenced to put my 
thoughts on paper, and it took me 
many days before I succeeded in 
getting it into shape so that it suited 
me. Please explain to your com- 
rades that the proclamation was 
issued for two reasons. The first 
and chief reason was this, I felt a 
great impulse moving me to do 
justice to five or six millions of 
people. The second reason was 
that I believed it would be a club 
in our hands with which we could 
whack the rebels. In other words, 
it would shorten the war. I be- 
lieved that under the Constitution 
I had a right to issue the proclama- 
tion as a 'Military Necessity/ I 

C 2 9 ] 



Lincoln 



have faith that it will shorten the 
war by many months. How does 
the rank and file view General 
Hooker ?" 

I replied that General Hooker 
was a hard fighter. "The boys have 
great respect for him, as well as 
great faith in his ability." 

The President then extended his 
hand and said, "I thank you very 
much, and I trust you will reach 
the front in the morning. " 

When I came out I endeavored 
to see Mr. Hay, but he had gone. 
The door guard was still on duty 
and I slipped up to him and said, 
"You need not call me 'greeny' 
any more, for I have learned more 

C so -} 



Lincoln 



to-day than many people learn in 
fifty years." 

I then thanked him for his assist- 
ance, and left the White House. I 
started for a lunch counter, for thee 
may believe I was hungry. After 
filling up on good things, in which 
" hardtack " had no share, I walked 
rapidly to the boat. I showed the 
captain my furlough with the Pres- 
ident' s name on it. He gazed at it 
a moment when he said, "Git 
aboard/ ' 

About the time I had reached 
the deck General Hooker climbed 
aboard too. He took the captain's 
cabin, while I took to a pile of bags 
filled with oats. I pulled the bags 

[ 31 3 



Lincoln 



around and made quite a nice bed, 
where I slept all night and landed 
at Acquia Creek next morning and 
reached the regiment in the after- 
noon. What a lot of unexpected 
experience I had met with ! I am no 
longer a "greeny " now. At least I 
do not believe I am. 

Mr. Lincoln was a very sad, woe- 
begone, gloomy-looking man. He 
did not smile, and his face did not 
lighten up once while I was in his 
presence. John, I was awful glad 
to get out, and when I did get away 
I felt as though I had been to a fu- 
neral. 

Senator Wade did smile once or 
twice, and so did the other two gen- 
C 32 ] 



Lincoln 



tlemen who were present, but Lin- 
coln did not even show the shadow 
of a smile. His long, sad and gloomy 
face haunted me for days afterward. 
I give his exact words, as near as 
I can remember them. To have the 
President of the United States talk 
to me, and to be allowed to talk to 
him, was such an event in my life 
that I may be pardoned, I think, if 
I did feel "a little set up," as it 
were. 

Now, John, I have written thee 
a long letter, much longer than I 
intended to write when I com- 
menced, but there seemed to be 
things to say and I could not resist 
the temptation to say them. Please 

1 33 n 



Lincoln 



thank thy wife (Letitia) for the 
basket of " good things " which she 
put up for me before I started, and 
also say to my dear little Sarah, 
that her " Dim " reached the camp 
in safety. With very kindest re- 
gards I remain 

Sincerely Thine 

J. M. Stradling 



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